Habits
by NerdyLeighAnne
Summary: Fred and George both have a problem. Fred has scars all over his arms, and George is suffering from anorexia and bulimia. Can they keep each other's habits secrets? Rated T for self-harm, eating disorders, slight abuse, and possible twincest.


A/N: I do not own the original idea for this. I got it from another fic, called Pathetic, only in mine George is never intentionally badly abused. It's by TheVeryCheesyAuthor, if you want to read it. I've also based this off another one, so... I forgot the title (lol). I know, I should be working on The Weasleys' Slave. But, I'm working on this. Please don't hate. Warnings: Eating disorders, self-harm, abuse, maybe possible twincest... I don't know what else, sorry. If you don't like twincest don't read or hate! Read on! XD Oh, yeah, and, despite the fact that I'm a pretty good author for my age, I am not J.K. Rowling. The Weasleys belong to her.

George Weasley's life was torture, that was the only way to put it. The only person he felt actually cared was his identical twin Fred. But even Fred seemed like he didn't care all the time. George had slipped into several habits then managed somehow to slip out of them. Not that he wasn't treated well. Of course he was treated well, his mother was Molly Weasley. But he'd been hit before. Even Fred hit him a few days earlier.

"Georgie?" George looked up, seeing Fred in the doorway. "Are you doing okay?"

"Yeah," said George, wiping his eyes.

"You missed dinner again," said Fred. "You haven't eaten at all for three days, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I just haven't been feeling my best," said George, trying as hard as he could not to cry.

"Mum told me to bring you something to eat." Fred grabbed a bowl, full of chicken noodle soup.

"Thanks," said George, though he really didn't want to eat.

"No problem," said Fred, but George could tell he knew something was going on. "Talk to me after you're done eating, 'kay?"

"Fine," said George. "But I'm really not hungry."

"George, I can tell you're starving," said Fred. "Eat."

"What if I don't want to?" said George.

"Do it anyway, I can almost see your ribs," said Fred.

"I'm not going to, nothing you can say will change that." Fred walked over to George's bed and smacked him, then left. George let silent tears run down his face, not touching his soup. He couldn't eat. It wasn't like he thought he was fat, because he didn't. It was a habit that he'd developed when he was being beaten by a drunk Fred who didn't know what he was doing a few nights earlier. He couldn't eat and he didn't know why. Nothing could get him to eat. A few minutes later Fred knocked on the door.

"George? Can we please talk?" he said, sounding worried.

"Fine." The door opened and Fred walked in.

"George, what's been going on? Please tell me, I want to help," said Fred. "You need to eat."

"Fred, you lost your bloody mind on Monday!" said George. He was still crying, but not at all silently.

"I—" started Fred. "I'm s—"

"Don't start, Fred! It's not my fault you were drunk!"

"George, if you'd let me ta—"

"Why? You're a ba—"

"Silencio!" said Fred, pointing his wand at George. "Listen! I never meant to. Lee dared me to drink four goblets of firewhiskey! Hopefully he sees that it caused my twin to be beaten!"

He took off the Silencing Charm, and immediately George started yelling.

"You're an idiot! It also caused me to starve myself!" he began, tears still streaming from his eyes. "Tell Lee that now I'm so sick I haven't left our room for who knows how long!"

"You're not—" started Fred, but was cut off by George's continued yelling.

"I'm mentally sick, Fred, not physically! All because of you!"

"Actually, it's Lee's fault," said Fred.

"I don't care, you accepted the dare! And I don't care that you're better than me, you shouldn't have accepted it!" shouted George, and they heard running footsteps coming towards their room.

"Good job, George. Now you've done it," said Fred. The next second Molly had burst into the room.

"Oh, Godric, you were fighting!" she said, looking beyond worried.

"Yeah, 'cause it's not normal for twins to fight sometimes," said Fred sarcastically. "He's not eating, I've been trying to get him to get some soup in his system at least."

"George, please eat your soup," said Molly. "Otherwise I'll have Fred use a jinx on you." George, now terrified, quickly gulped down his soup, but his stomach started aching. Fred looked satisfied, and Mrs. Weasley left.

"Hey, Fred, can you leave me alone?" asked George. "I need to do something."

"What? And why don't you just do it in the bathroom?" asked Fred.

"Because," said George. "Please go?"

"Alright," said Fred, leaving. George quickly went into the bathroom, locking the door. He was already gagging because of the soup.

Fred and George were in their room. Fred had been sketching out ideas for product designs, and George was laying on his back, shirtless.

"George, I'm really starting to worry about you," said Fred. "Your ribs are showing, mate."

"I'm fine," said George, turning onto his side so his back was facing Fred.

"George, I know you're not okay," said Fred. "I'm sorry about Monday, okay? Please talk to me."

"I—" started George, looking for the right words. "It's complicated. I'm sorry."

"It's fine, but at least joke some more," said Fred.

"Hmm," said George, trying to think of a joke. "Okay, an Ilvermorny student had a school dance coming up. He had to rent a suit, and there was a gigantic line for that. He went to rent a Firebolt and there was a huge line for that. Then, when he gets to the dance, he tells his date he's going to get some punch. And there's no punchline."

"Didn't know you could actually come up with that good of a joke," said Fred teasingly and laughing. George turned to face Fred, then closed his eyes, smirking. "You're not going to sleep? It's only ten."

"I'm tired," said George, yawning.

"Well, if you'd eat—" started Fred.

"It's not my fault," said George, opening his eyes to look at Fred. "Can I please go to sleep?"

"Yes, you can," said Fred, now fighting back tears. After a little while, George was asleep, but Fred was still awake. It was lucky George was asleep, because Fred was now crying. It was his fault his brother had bruises that probably wouldn't go away for a few months and others years. Ever since the night he'd beaten up George he'd had scars, both physical and mental. Now he couldn't help George. It was his fault. He could barely remember beating up George, but he knew he'd done it.

"I'm sorry, George," Fred whispered, sitting up and putting his arms around his knees, even though it put his arms in pain. He rolled up his sleeves, showing scars he'd been adding to both arms since he found out he'd hurt George. Not able to help himself, he went over to George's bed and laid down next to him, hugging him for comfort. He cried into George's noback, knowing it could wake him up.

"Fred," said George, his voice hoarse from sleep, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing," said Fred, managing to relax and crack a smile. "I just felt like going back to the old days."

"Fred, your face is tearstained," said George, sitting up.

"Fine, I'll tell you my secret if you tell me yours," said Fred. "You first."

"Fine," said George, looking down at his lap. "I— I'm suffering from two eating disorders. You better not tell anyone."

"Weasley promise," said Fred. "I need to tell you mine. You have to keep mine a secret too, 'kay Georgie?"

"You're keeping mine a secret, I'll keep yours a secret no matter what," said George.

"I'm—" started Fred. "You'd be better off seeing for yourself."

Fred rolled up his sleeves again, which had been put back down after he'd gotten off his bed. At the revelation of the scars, George quietly gasped.

"If you tell anyone, I'll hex you," said Fred, waving his wand at George threateningly.

"If you really think I'm going to tell someone, Freddie, I swear I'm not," said George.

"Thanks," said Fred, lowering his wand. "Can I sleep with you tonight? It might help with the tear shed a little."

"Sure," said George. "Let's get to sleep, it's almost midnight and I'm exhausted."

"Love you, good night," said Fred.

"Love you, too, good night." George turned his lamp off, and both twins were asleep in a few minutes.

"FREDERICK GIDEON WEASLEY AND GEORGE FABIAN WEASLEY!" shouted Mrs. Weasley the next morning. Almost immediately, Fred and George fell off the bed.

"Yes, Mum?" asked Fred, smirking.

"Fred—"

"He's not Fred, I am," said George, also smirking.

"Honestly, can't you tell us apart yet?"

"Sor—"

"Only jokin', Mum," said Fred. "I really am Fred."

"Whatever! What were you doing in bed together?!"

"Maybe you've heard of comfort?" asked Fred. "I was having a nightmare," added Fred as Mrs. Weasley glared at him.

"Well, come down and get breakfast. Fred. Just bring some for George."

"Right-o," said Fred. They had a long day after that, then they slept together again.

A/N: I know, it could've been longer. At least I finished. Do you like it? Hate it? Tell me and tell me what I can do to improve my writing. Thanks! I promise I'm working on chapter 9 of Weasleys' Slave. Bye!


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